The Trial of River Song
by ElphieUpland
Summary: Because when you kill the man who saved so many lives, there are consequences. There are people out there who are going to make sure you pay. And the first step on the road to prison is always the trial. River/Doctor


**Well, hello! This story has spoilers up through The Wedding of River Song, so consider yourself warned.**

**I've been wondering what took place between River's suit walking back into the lake and her ending up in Stormcage, so this is my take on that. Because when a million million voices all say "Yes, of course we'll help the Doctor," those same voices are going to want revenge when the Doctor dies.**

**The Trial of River Song**

"Melody Pond-"

"With all due respect, your honor," River cut in from her place on the podium, interrupting the very solemn-looking judge as he glared at her, "It's River Song now. Melody Pond doesn't exist anymore."

"On whose authority?" the judge asked, arching an eyebrow, which only served to highlight the millions of wrinkles embedded in his forehead. Dead silence surrounded them as lawyers, jurors, and audience members alike watched the blonde prisoner with disdain and border-line hatred.

"The Doctor's," she said simply, doing her best not to put on a smug smile. The silence around her was immediately broken; the courtroom filled itself immediately with murmurs and suspicious whispers. So many were present for her trial that the sound of the judge's gavel could barely be heard as voices swirled and mixed.

"Silence!" The judge shouted, his voice slicing through the murmurs harshly. And silence fell.

OoOoOoOoO

River didn't remember much after the events of Lake Silencio. She'd tried to blot out as much as she could. She didn't enjoy feeling helpless, so she did her best to forget the feeling of the weapons systems deploying without her permission. She didn't enjoy tears, so she struggled to ensure that no one would ever see them. Tears might make her look remorseful in the trial she knew she was going to have, true, but they would also make her look weak. And she was not weak. Several thoughts, several different versions of reality swam through her head as the Tesselecta fell to the ground, useless. And she couldn't be entirely happy that it wasn't actually the Doctor. Because in another version of reality, it had been. And that was the memory that would haunt her throughout the trial. In her mind, she was not innocent at all.

There was a lot to remember about that event, a lot more than River actually could remember. Or wanted to. For example, she couldn't recall exactly how she had been taken into custody after her suit had dragged her back into the lake. But she could hear in perfect clarity the 'whoosh'ing noise of the bullets her future self fired at her. She could see the look on his face as he fell. Too accepting. It bothered her that he would look so resigned, robot or not.

The past few days had been a blur of logistics. Lawyers scrambled out of the way, not wanting to defend the Woman Who Killed The Doctor. And who in their right mind would? River didn't want a lawyer. She didn't even want a small chance of being proclaimed innocent. Because no matter how completely she was forgiven by the Doctor, she would never forgive herself for the memory of the aborted time line.

River didn't mind that the juror count was well over 1,000, and all of them were convinced of her guilt. She really didn't mind that there were twenty lawyers and 4,000 testimonials from all over the universe at her trial. Because it simply proved what she had told the Doctor in the aborted time line. He was loved so much, and by so many.

And by no one more than her.

So here she stood, in one of the largest courtrooms in the galaxy. Cameras were trained on her at all moments. She stood in the middle of the courtroom, the nearest audience member at least fifty feet away. She was placed on a podium, roughly one foot above the ground. Just high enough to see the judge over his ridiculously tall stand. Both hands were handcuffed behind her back, and the handcuffs were chained to the podium. As if she'd actually try and get away from this fate.

It was completely demoralizing; or, at least, it was meant to be. But River stood tall and proud. Not cocky or smug, but not weak or tearful. Rather like a majestic statue that refused to be brought down. She fixed her eyes on one point on the far wall, staring at it rather than the baleful glares that met her when she turned her eyes anywhere else.

"He was a good man," A woman with six arms was saying tearfully, having illustrated the account of how the Doctor had saved her planet from destruction. Each arm held a tissue and took turns dabbing at the one eye the woman possessed. Her high-pitched voice was rather annoying, and she had startled River out of her reverie.

"Best man I ever knew," River added quietly, one of her first full sentences since the trial began. And it did not go unnoticed. Several heads whipped around to face her, and eyes locked on her from all corners of the room. She was so tired of all this suspicion. She wanted to stop the trial now and just go to Stormcage, like she knew she'd have to.

"What was that, Miss Pond?" the lawyer who'd been questioning Cyclops Lady asked suspiciously, and River actively struggled to keep herself from correcting him. Melody Pond was a superhero. Not a criminal.

"I believe I said 'The best man I ever knew'," she said, raising her voice slightly. "I was simply agreeing with her statement. Is that crime now as well?" she finished, her eyebrow raising of its own accord. If her arms were not previously occupied, they would have been folded across her body expectantly.

"Your honor, permission to pursue questioning against the defendant?" the lawyer asked, turning to face the wrinkly old judge.

"Granted," the man said grudgingly, waving his hand as if he were bored.

"Shouldn't you be asking my permission to question me?" River asked innocently, shaking her head as if the lawyer's behavior was a serious violation of social protocol. Whispers filled the courtroom once again. Honestly, one would think she'd blasphemed every god known to any living being. Her hip jutted out defiantly as she stared down at the lobster lawyer.

"Quite talkative today, Miss Pond," the lawyer said, his eyes narrowing and the pincers around his mouth snapping open and shut repeatedly. River bit down on her tongue, hard. Her patience was wearing thin. "Why choose now, two weeks into your trial, to suddenly regain your voice?"

An excellent question.

"Honestly, I don't know," she shrugged, though the action sent a lancing pain through her shoulders. "I've listened to several hundred testimonials, all praising the Doctor and the lives he's made better. Is it so wrong that I should agree?"

"Considering your crime, it is at least unusual," the lawyer said curtly, and a cough from the judge urged him to make a point quickly or cease his conversation with the defendant.

"Your honor," River said, raising her voice and turning her eyes upward, over the lawyer's head and to the ancient being above her. "I understand that this is an unusual trial. However, in all my lifetimes, the traditional way to start out a trial has always been to ask the defendant if they plead innocent or guilty. I don't recall ever being asked such a question."

The whispers intensified, sounding rather violent. River, however, ignored them, falling silent once more. She spared a small smile at the lawyer, who looked infuriated at having been rejected by her before he was done. Silly man. Didn't he know that she always did things on her own terms? This trial was no different. The mind-numbing days on the podium had given her time to think, time to clear her mind. And she knew now what she was going to do. So why allow the trial to go on any longer if it had lost its use?

The judge looked taken aback, as if he had not considered the idea of asking such a question. River wondered if it was because everyone had such a harsh view of her that they would automatically assume that she would lie and try to get herself out of prison, or if the old man was simply so senile that he had forgotten basic protocol. Either was likely, judging by the enormous numbers of wrinkles on his face.

"I'll thank you to cease those rather rude thoughts, Miss Pond," the judge said shortly, and River's eyebrows raised again in a sort of childish glee. A telepath, how exciting! So why hadn't he just peered into her mind before and made his ruling based on her thoughts there? Oh, wait. He was a judge. He was to moderate the decision based on every testimonial, not just her own. Right. Fairness and all. How dull.

The judge spared her a slight, almost imperceptible nod, confirming her thoughts and making River smile even wider. She'd dated a telepath once, in the aborted time line. They were most definitely _not_ rubbish. Especially when her thoughts were enough to make them blush on a regular basis.

"Miss Pond," the judge said again, rather harshly, and River did her best to regain the serious and solemn mood she'd had for the past two weeks. Considering her past, remembering what she'd done... it wasn't hard to sober herself. She frowned, looking up and containing her surprise at finding that the judge's eyes were already locked on her, his eyes narrowed again. Silently, she shut down her mind, forcing barriers into place that effectively pushed out the grasping tendrils of the judge's telepathy.

"Since you seem to be so educated in the protocol of my court," the judge began after a small pause, silencing any straggling whispers. "We shall start from the beginning. You have been accused of murdering a man known as The Doctor, last of the Time Lords and savior of countless worlds. You have been accused of doing so in cold blood, with no provocation or justifiable reason. The punishment for such a crime is 12,000 consecutive life sentences in the maximum security containment facility, Stormcage. How then, Melody Pond, do you plead?"

There was a moment of complete, dead silence. All eyes were on River, and she briefly flashed back on every experience she'd had with the Doctor. A small part of her mind, the part that was still Melody Pond asked her if it was really worth it. 12,000 consecutive life sentences. Not even she would live that long. And it might be torture. Was the Doctor really worth it? She could feel the prying eyes of her interrogators on her. And in that split second of doubt, she made her decision.

"Guilty," she whispered through the silence, her voice carrying to the ears of everyone present. "Of course, guilty."

And in that split second, that one moment of calm before the storm, she knew exactly who she was. Because to her, to who she was now, the Doctor was _always_ worth it. Always and completely.

"Well, Melody Pond-" the judge started gravely, and River smiled slightly. Such a wrinkled, old man.

"With all due respect, your honor," she cut in from her humble place on the podium, earning herself a glare from the old man in question, "It's River Song now. Melody Pond doesn't exist anymore."

"On whose authority?" the judge asked, arching an eyebrow, which only served to highlight the millions of wrinkles in his forehead. The dead silence remained as all the stares in the room focused on the blonde in the center of it, all eying her with disdain and borderline hatred.

"The Doctor's," she said simply.

OoOoOoOoOoOo

"River, it wasn't nice of you to play with them like that," an all too familiar voice chided from a dark corner of her cell. River was immediately on her feet, her diary shoved under her pillow out of instinct. It was the one thing she'd managed to sneak into her cell with her, and instincts demanded that she keep it safe.

However, her muscles relaxed a split second later as the Doctor stepped out of the shadows, smiling warmly. She couldn't help it; despite the painful throbbing in her chest at the sight of him, she smiled back. "They bored me, Doctor. How else was I supposed to put an end to their cruel torture?"

The Doctor clutched a hand to his chest, feigning hurt. "You mean you didn't want to listen to everybody's stories about how wonderful I am? The Gamma Forest girl had a _beautiful_ imitation of my voice! And at least she acknowledged that bow-ties are _cool._ I mean, really River! If you hadn't been staring a hole in the wall, don't think I didn't see you, you might have heard some- River, are you alright?" the Doctor broke off abruptly as River covered her face with her hands.

"No," she said through her hands, her voice wavering dangerously as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. She'd thought she would be strong for this. But seeing his face was something she hadn't thought would affect her like this. "No, I'm not."

"Oh, River," the Doctor said awkwardly, gathering her into his arms as she shuddered and sobbed. "My River. What's the matter?"

"I killed you," she said again, her voice breaking painfully. And she'd just been worried about sounding weak. Right now, she sounded downright pitiful.

"No you didn't!" the Doctor said, smiling confusedly and gesturing to his own body. "I'm right here! See? Fantastic! In great health, got the devastatingly good looks to prove it." He hugged her closer, a gesture that nearly made her lose her breath.

"Idiot," she whispered into his chest, clutching a bundle of his shirt in her fist, as if letting him go meant he would disappear.

"Hey-"

"I killed you, Doctor. I remember it both ways. And the one that haunts me the most... you started to regenerate. And I killed you again. And you didn't get back up. It doesn't matter if the trial used the wrong information; I still did it."

"Oh, River Song. My River Song. My lovely, beautiful wife. That time line doesn't exist anymore. That doesn't matter," he said comfortingly, dragging her into his arms again.

"Don't ever say that to me, Doctor," she said angrily, pushing him away immediately and glaring up at him, meeting his eyes for the first time since Silencio. "I married you in a time line that doesn't exist anymore. Does that mean our marriage doesn't matter?"

"No, absolutely not!" The Doctor said hurriedly, waving his arms. "I mean, it does matter! It always matters! But, I mean, the other one, I mean... I forgave you, River! That makes it all better, right? Doesn't it?"

River looked up at him incredulously, searching his eyes to see if he was mocking her. But he wasn't, of course he wasn't. She sighed, rubbing her eyes. "My Doctor," she said, shaking her head. "My impossible man. You forgave me, yes. But what makes you think I'll ever forgive myself?"

"River…"

"No, Doctor," she said firmly, looking him in the eyes. No tiny Doctor inside them. "I know what you're going to say. I'm forgiven. Always and completely forgiven. But every time I see you, I'm going to see you dying. I will never forget it."

The Doctor's eyes flashed briefly with a look of pain and understanding that confused River, but just as quickly as it had arrived, it disappeared. "Well, River Song, my wife," he said, grinning happily, as if nothing had just happened. "It just so happens that I have a handy-dandy time machine right here with me, and all of time and space is at our disposal. Who says your first night in Stormcage has to be all gloomy-woomy and sad, hmm? You and me. Time and space. How's about we go for a run?"

River stared at the Doctor once more, the tears on her face already in the process of drying. He really was impossible. She let out a bark of laughter, which turned into giggles. "One condition, my love," she managed between her bouts of laughter. "You never, _ever_, say 'gloomy-woomy' again."

"Awww, but Ri-"

"Doctor."

"Fine, promise."

OoOoOoOoOoOo

Zanfler the Lawyer had always been very proud of himself and his abilities, thinking himself to be the most capable lawyer on this side of Traxin V. So naturally he'd volunteered to be a part of the biggest trial of the millenia. And with a defendant like the infamous River Song, alias Melody Pond, he was practically guaranteed a victory. And he'd finally have the prestige on his home planet that would prove himself to be the most capable lawyer on this side of Traxin V.

But when he returned home from the case, he could think of very little else besides the last day of the trial. River Song had taken things into her own hands, tying things up neatly while effectively removing herself from the premises and answering the question of her guilt in a mere hour, something everyone had been trying to do for two weeks. But that wasn't what he remembered most about the trial. He grudgingly admired the way she'd manhandled the judge, who was a notoriously grumpy old dodger, but he'd seen something else that had completely taken him by surprise.

_"Guilty," the woman whispered quietly, her voice somehow sounding exceedingly loud to his ears. She bowed her head, her impressive mane of curls draping over her features, which suddenly looked crumbled and devastated. Zanfler felt as if he should look away, as if he were not supposed to be looking on at such an intensely private moment. But he stood transfixed. He knew that no one else could see her face, except perhaps him. So that meant he was the only one to see her stormy gray eyes flutter closed, screwing shut in a raw expression of pain and loss. Her hair framed her face as she shook her head, and for a moment, Zanfler felt as if the woman before him deserved his sympathy, not his disdain._

_But then she raised her head again, and the storm behind her eyes was raging again, and she was a neutral statue. As if nothing had ever happened. "Of course, guilty."_


End file.
